Kiss Me For The Great Plan
by whatthenesmith
Summary: In a moment of alcohol induced impulsivity, Crowley asks Aziraphale to kiss him. Because, well, obviously it might just be a part of the divine plan. And nobody wants to go against the divine plan.


What had they gotten themselves into? The thought kept popping up in Aziraphale's mind, sloshing through the drunkenness and presenting itself like an annoying bee buzzing around in there. They'd raised the wrong child. They'd lost the antichrist. They, well… they had failed, hadn't they.

And it did occur to the angel that the only reason Crowley had come over that night to drink was because he too was feeling the full effect of their collective failure. The world was going to end and what could be done about it now. The boy, wherever he was, had named the hellhound and would be coming into his powers any day now.

Heaven was happy and Aziraphale concluded that Hell would be more than pleased. They'd have their war, Earth being torn apart and destroyed in the process. How unfair it all was.

"Eh, eh, what, what's the pouting for?" Crowley's slurred voice broke through the angel's thoughts.

"We've rather messed up, haven't we ."

What else could Aziraphale say?

The demon, who had been sitting on one of the various chairs Aziraphale had in his backroom, pulled said chair right up to the couch that Aziraphale was slumped on. He pulled his sunglasses off so that the angel could see the demon's snakelike eyes boring into him.

"Listen," Crowley leaned forwards, hands finding purchase on Aziraphale's knees. "Listen."

"I am."

Why in Heaven was the demon getting so close? A small part of Aziraphale's brain, one that echoed back ancient thoughts of when he was still rejoicing the Almighty and her power in Heaven, told him to brush the demon away. Stay back, say something like that, it urged.

But, drunk or not drunk, the angel never really listened to that part of his brain these days anyways, so it was all rather pointless. And it was nice, and comforting, that Crowley was this comfortable with him.

"Alright, yeah, listen, we might've cocked up a bit, but, eh, um, it really will work out."

Aziraphale frowned at the demon, who frowned in return and glanced down for a moment.

"Probably," he added, sounding not as sure as he had been when he'd first spoke.

But then his eyes locked back onto Aziraphale, leaning forward more, his face set with what appeared to be causal determination. Despite the alcohol, the angel was aware of Crowley's hands moving to his thighs.

"Probably 'cause, 'cause we'll, you and me, we'll figure something out. Sober up, come up with a plan, the whole sh-shebang, ya know."

Yes, sober up and come up with a plan. It sounded brilliant and, well, perhaps the two of them were a little too drunk. Humans easily became intoxicated and Aziraphale had always marveled at how fragile they were sometimes. Fascinating, especially as they did it to themselves, becoming silly or angry or loving when drunk. A whole host of emotions.

And right now, Aziraphale himself felt silly. Silly because Crowley was so close. Silly because here was a demon comforting him, an angel, a principality of all things! How absolutely silly. It was all so silly, Aziraphale really couldn't help but laugh.

Crowley cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"I'm rather intoxicated, my dear," Aziraphale explained, trying to gather his composure.

"'S'kay. Me, too."

The response just made it harder for the angel to calm himself down. In fact, it rather sent him on another fit of giggles. Despite the humor Aziraphale found in the situation, Crowley didn't seem phased. His snake-eyes were trained very seriously on Aziraphale, and he almost felt bad for finding this all funny.

"A-apologies, m-my dear, I-I can't seem to stop," he managed to wheeze, hoping his demon wouldn't take any offense.

"Aziraphale," Crowley said and this…

Well, this surely dried up any laughter still left inside of the angel. The way he said it made him feel funny, but not in the silly sort of way.

"Erm, yes?"

"Aziraphale."

"Crowley?"

"Something has just occurred to me."

Yes, Aziraphale thought to himself, yes they were both rather drunk and should sober up. After all, they had a plan to come up with and a child to find and an apocalypse to stop. But, the angel had to admit to himself, at the same time he wanted to hear Crowley out.

He appeared to be very serious. And, well, it wouldn't be a lie that Aziraphale kept getting distracted by Crowley's eyes. Humans had an interesting variety of eye colors, as did angels, but demons had a skewed arrey. Most of them weren't to Aziraphale's liking, but Crowley's had always been Aziraphale's favorite (although no one needed to know that).

"What is it, my dear fellow?"

What Crowley said next was unexpected. In all of his 6,000 years on Earth, nothing had ever taken Aziraphale by surprise as much as what Crowley said next. What he said was shocking and delightful and they were both far too drunk for any of this.

"Kiss me."

"Beg pardon?" Aziraphale choked.

The angel was aware that he wasn't actually sobering up in the least, but somehow he felt more aware. He was aware of how close Crowley was, aware of how much they'd both had to drink, aware of Crowley's hands on his thighs.

Oh dear, awareness was rather troublesome at times and perhaps humans had the right idea. If he were just a little more drunk maybe he'd be a little less aware. But the angel didn't want to be more drunk, didn't want to be unaware of what and where and who.

But it was all rather a lot quite quickly, wasn't it?

"For the great plan," Crowley said that as if it would clear everything up.

It didn't.

"I, well, Crowley, I'm afraid that, well, I'm not sure what you are going on about."

Crowley rolled his eyes.

"C'mon! It's the great plan, what if we're meant to kiss, to-to, uh, to find the antichrist."

"Crowley, you're drunk," Aziraphale wondered if it was really time to stop all of this nonsense.

He'd played this game long enough and was rather tired of his mind feeling all muddled, especially as he had a lot to think about with this proposition. Obviously it made little sense, it couldn't possibly be a part of the great plan, but then again, the great plan was ineffable. What if, by some odd coincidence, that Crowley was correct?

The idea of kissing Crowley should be abhorrent, considering what they were, and Aziraphale knew this, but in this state, he couldn't lie that it wasn't tempting.

Tempting! Ha, now there was a joke.

"'S really not so bad," Crowley insisted, "I mean, what if it really is a part of Her great big, huge great plan. That we kiss. You and me. Wouldn't want to go against it, ya know."

Surely Crowley wasn't serious but his face, that look, it all screamed that this was very serious business in fact. No joking around. No tricks or temptations. Just Crowley being totally serious.

He didn't even seem that drunk!

Aziraphale was all rather confused and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do in this situation.

On one hand, yes, he wanted to kiss Crowley but he couldn't admit that to anyone (including himself) so he just kept telling himself that it couldn't hurt to kiss Crowley, just in case it really would help them find the antichrist and really was a part of Her great plan.

On the other hand, perhaps he should suggest they both sober up first and then talk about this with clear heads. That, of course, would be the best option and he really should point this out to Crowley because perhaps it hadn't occurred to him as an avenue they could take.

"I don't know, my dear," Aziraphale frowned, wishing that Crowley wasn't so close to him as to distract him like this.

He just really couldn't think straight.

"I need to sober up."

Crowley nodded, hands moving from his thighs to his knees again. If Aziraphale didn't know better, he would have guessed that Crowley was accepting that the angel didn't want to kiss him, great plan or not, and wouldn't be pressuring him into anything but still holding out hope that maybe he was wrong.

But Aziraphale did know better and so he didn't realize that this was exactly what was going through the demon's head.

"But," Aziraphale added, feeling a little more confident (or maybe he was just letting himself go a little, for once in over 6,000 years).

This perked Crowley up.

"I suppose if it is a portion of Her great plan, then it must be done swiftly, just in case, and, as you said, it perhaps might give us some type of clue as to how to fix our mistake with the child."

"Exactly, you've got it, you… you… angel."

"Yes, I am," Aziraphale agreed, although he wasn't sure why Crowley was pointing that out.

This elicited a hearty cackle from the demon who leaned forward for a second time, hands from knees to thighs once more, but he didn't stop there. Crowley leaned forward enough for him to place his face directly in front of Aziraphale's.

He smelled of smoke and fire and alcohol and a mix of scents that were just so Crowley that Aziraphale really couldn't place an individual label on them, they just smelled of him. It was almost as intoxicating as the drinks they'd had.

Then, before Aziraphale knew it, Crowley was kissing him. It was soft, desperate. His hands went from thighs to chest and Aziraphale wasn't sure what he was supposed to do back, so he did the only thing he could think of. He kissed back. There was tongue, frankly it felt like they were fighting with their mouths, and his hands settled on Crowley's shoulders.

It was nice. The angel had never kissed anyone in his life, and why would he? Angels didn't need to kiss, that was a human thing, and Aziraphale had never had any desire to kiss a human. If he were being honest, the idea of kissing had always confused him. Why would anyone want to put their mouths together like that?

But kissing Crowley, well, it made sense now.

They had milenia to make up for and it felt like they both were trying to do exactly that. Aziraphale lost himself. For a brief moment, there wasn't a thing troubling the principality. They hadn't just failed big time, leading to the utter obliteration of Earth during an unnecessary war between Heaven and Hell, and probably ruining any chance of this kissing stuff happening again.

No, Aziraphale was the happiest he'd ever been in a very long time and he never wanted this moment to end.

But then Crowley pulled away, leaving the angel wanting more, and he laughed.

Aziraphale came back to himself.

"Um, well," he cleared his throat, not managing to get himself to look at Crowley's face.

"Well."

A beat of silence.

"Do you think it worked?" Aziraphale felt stupid asking that.

It didn't occur to him why, although deep down a part of him knew that it was due to the fact that it was clear the two of them kissing had nothing to do with the great plan. That Crowley had just wanted to kiss him and, by jove, Aziraphale had wanted that too. But that was too deep down for Aziraphale to realize that and thus, certainly them kissing had to have resulted in something.

"Guess, uh, guess we'll see," shrugged Crowley.

The kissing never did amount to any information about where or how to find the antichrist. It didn't seem to have anything to do with Her great plan. And it was never discussed or mentioned by Crowley and Aziraphale after they sobered up and went back to figuring out how they were going to fix the mess they'd gotten themselves into.

Despite that, neither forgot and, well, eventually it would come back up and be remembered fondly. But that wouldn't be for quite some time yet.


End file.
